


Emerald Geode

by WeCouldBeCircumbinary



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-20
Updated: 2012-11-20
Packaged: 2017-11-19 02:36:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/568105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeCouldBeCircumbinary/pseuds/WeCouldBeCircumbinary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She is different and sometimes you have to remind yourself that she comes from an entirely different world from you, and that she is so fucking incredible sometimes that it is all you can do not to just stand there and stare, watching her mental clockwork of gears trip and churn and work as she strives to function in a society so much more stable and biased and difficult than her own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Emerald Geode

**Author's Note:**

> For those of you who follow my work, if there is anyone, I WILL be updating Grave Digger soon! Life happened, just a little bit, so I'm really sorry, and I'm working on it!
> 
> Here's some Dave/Jade to compensate for my absense. Sorry!

You're curious. 

It hits you the first time you see her, the first time you see thick, dark, raven-esque curls that remind you of your own crows, but hers are filled with more volume, more life, more shine; the first time you see forest-green eyes shimmering like polished emeralds or blown glass behind round and lame as hell ( but distractingly endearing ) spectacles; the first time you see pale, flawless skin and soft, lean, willowy curves, and long legs and callused hands and everything you are so totally not used to at all.

Her laugh is loud, too loud, and absolutely, adorably, annoyingly obnoxious. It bounces off the walls like an echo and reverberates, high-pitched and hiccuping and she never laughs the same way twice. Somehow, you are never bothered by this - in fact, you find yourself anticipating the next sound, unique to its very own moment. A cacophony of snorts and gasps and giggles and squeals, everything that should make you want to bash your head into a wall but it doesn't. It only irritates you mildy and the stronger urge that grows inside you is to make her laugh again, and see how it sounds that time.

Her legs are too long, much too long for her torso and she never shaves, and her body - while lean and athletic, slender and willowy, strong and capable - is shapeless, lacking in chest or curvature or anything very feminine at all. She has big feet that tend to smell like a plethora of dead things and she is wild, animalistic. Her manners are nonexistant - she eats with her hands, burps louder than even you can even when she's not even trying, she never brushes her hair and sometimes her clothes aren't washed until they've been worn at least four or five times. She interrupts people when they're speaking and very seldom takes things very seriously. 

She eats like a pig, she snorts like a pig, she smells like a pig, she acts like a pig, she behaves like a pig, and her apartment could be owned by a pig and it would be in better shape than she keeps it. You aren't prudent, but you've gotten her Febreeze as a birthday present more times than you can count.

She is completely and utterly inconsistent. For all her loyalty, she can barely keep a promise because she can't even remember a damn thing. One day, she could wear a frilly dress straight from Kanaya's sketchbook, one that fits like a glove and hugs her in all the right ways, and the next day, she could be wearing Jake's khakis that are nearly falling off her slim hips and beat-up sneakers, maybe one of John's old tees. She prefers men's clothes to women's and you despise how good you think she looks in them.

She is feral in more ways than you can count. She growls when she's angry and sleeps curled up in a nest of blankets and pillows and Squiddles, often times in inopportune places like maybe the kitchen floor or the garage. She purrs when contented and can be easily placated with food or maybe a game of fetch or something. She likes to be pet and scratched and belly-rubs are a thing in her schedule, as well as shared meals with Bec ( eating his food, not hers ) and walks to the park ( she barks more than Bec does ).

It hits you, though, as you watch her dance and sing and laugh as she prepares breakfast for the four of you - apt and able, adroit in everything she does, no matter how mundane - that none of this matters. She is confident and beautiful in her very own way. She is a geode, cold and bland stone on the outside, not really much too look at and in all honesty, quire ordinary. But inside? Magnificent crystal, celestial and brilliant, absolutely incredible if you just take the time to look. She is different and sometimes you have to remind yourself that she comes from an entirely seperate world from you, and that she is so fucking incredible sometimes that it is all you can do not to just stand there and stare, watching her mental clockwork of gears trip and churn and work as she strives to function in a society so much more stable and biased and difficult than her own. 

You're curious because you want to know how she does it, how she wears her heart on her sleeve, how she is like a princess despite being neck-deep in motor oil and mud. 

Jade Harley is crazy as hell, and you really can't help but love that.


End file.
